Addiction
by bredalot
Summary: House has a strange new addiction.


**Disclaimer; Much as I wished I owned House (both the character and the show), I don't.**

_A/N: I noticed, while watching Euphoria, that House has a tendency to loom over Cameron. This, in my head, is why. The quote is from episode 1x17: Role Model, and I'm not sure it's quite right, but it's close._

He enjoyed looming over her. Not only was it thoroughly disconcerting to her, but it made him feel stronger than he had in a long time. She was so small and tried to be so strong, but he could see her wavering when he looked down at her inscrutably. She'd look up at him, her eyelashes would flicker almost imperceptibly, and her mouth would open just the slightest bit. And then he'd speak.

He liked being able to cause such a powerful response.

It almost let him ignore the response she created in him.

When he stood over her like that, he felt the instincts created by centuries of strength rushing through his brain. The ingrained responses brought back his old power; he was no longer just a brilliant and sarcastic mind in a crippled body. She was small, warm, and indisputably pretty, and he could protect her, whether she needed it or not. He could destroy her, if he chose.

"People pray to God so he doesn't crush them like little bugs," he had said. "I'm not going to crush you."

He knew it was true, whether or not he wanted it to be. It was even more true when he was looming over her. It was the hero instinct; it was being part of what happened to her. He'd never felt it before. He'd loved Stacy, but it had been different. She hadn't needed him. He hadn't needed _her_.

For that was what happened with Cameron. (Wasn't it funny how he still called her that, even in his head? He'd known her just as "Cameron" for so long that "Allison" no longer seemed to fit her. He wondered vaguely if it ever had.) He needed her. He'd told her that she didn't love him, she needed him. He was damaged.

The thing was, he needed her because she needed him. And need is even more powerful than love: fiercer, wilder, more determined. So he knew that she would hide it (and hide it well), but she could not, would not, get rid of it. She wouldn't want to. (He knew. His every day was consumed by need, even before she was there.) And if she knew that he needed her as much as she needed him, her need would change to love. Need was resistible, but no one could ignore love.

The thing about Cameron was that she made him weak even as she made him strong. Oddly, reaffirming that his body and mind weren't completely crippled cause opposite sensations: his height and power over her made his body strong as her undeniable unconscious charm weakened his heart. His doctor's sensibilities told him this was bad, but he couldn't get enough.

When he stood over her like that, he could feel her everywhere. She radiated a powerful warmth that completely enveloped him, even when entirely clothed in a HazMat suit. She was so pretty, a classic petite brunette with softly startling blue eyes; he didn't always trust himself around her. Not that she was in any danger; no, he didn't trust himself not to open up to her. He didn't trust himself not to fall for her.

Everything she did convinced him more and more that he was in danger. She was a good doctor: knowledgeable, creative, and intelligent, even if she cared too much. She was daily growing in sarcasm without losing her inherent sweetness; it was a puzzling and alluring combination. She had never been afraid of him, never pitied him, never hated him (no matter how hard he tried). Everyone liked her, even though she was damaged. Just as damaged as he was. She was weak, yes, but she was also strong. She was . . . different.

And that's why he was addicted. He'd always been prone to addiction: he'd read the same books over and over, until he knew every word, listen to the same songs over and over, until he knew every note. The drugs made it even easier. He'd even become addicted to being a doctor, much as he hated work: he took every interesting case that came his way, and once he started, he couldn't stop, couldn't take a break, couldn't admit he might be wrong. Now he was addicted to Cameron, a completely different sort of addiction, for she was changing and surprising and beautiful and good for him.

And, of course, he chose now to start fighting his addiction.

House knew why he was damaged. It had always started with him, his own stubbornness, his own – yes – stupidity. He needed Cameron. She could fix him, but he couldn't let her.

Damned addiction.


End file.
